


Highway to Hope

by Luna_May



Series: The Hope Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: #Bye now, #Falling, #Forshadowing, #Hope AU, #Revival, #Season eight, #Stuff still happens, #These are getting bad, #Trials, #sammy, #supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8380960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_May/pseuds/Luna_May
Summary: Hope woke up, but with a coin and her knife she'll have to adjust to the changes that happened in her death, and the reoccurring nightmares that have begun to plague her waking world.





	1. Returning Hope

I stared, her cold body resting on my leg.  
“Dean?” I felt Sam’s hand on my shoulder.  
She looked sad, her mouth in a permanent frown, and tears staining her cheeks.  
Castiel was showing emotion, however little it was. Eyebrows knitted together in mourning.  
I picked up her light body, trying to get her wings to not drag on the ground.  
I set her in the back of the impala, and we drove back to the bunker and she was set on the table, again.  
“What are we going to do?” Sam asked. “Do we tell her parent’s? Give her a hunter’s funeral? Or just bury her on the woods out back?” Sam pondered.   
“I can’t burn a twelve-year-old.” I declared.  
“Then we shall go with a traditional burial.” Castiel said.  
“Her parents?” Sam urged an answer.  
“Would they want to know where she is? And would they want a coroner to see her wings and see the grace and that she had nothing wrong with her?” Dean growled.  
“No.” Sam conceded. “So, she just goes missing, like we kidnapped her? but she actually made a demon deal, and died.”   
“Exactly, Samuel.” Castiel replied.  
The trio buried the young girl, and marked her grave with a crudely made cross, they had placed her in a handmade coffin.

~~~Awakened~~~  
Screaming, pain. Terror.  
I opened my eyes with a gasp of air.  
“Where, where am I?” I gasped, my voice was hoarse and raspy.  
I looked around, I was in a box, tight, so tight. Augh! Got to get out! I’ll suffocate!   
I pushed at the lid, luckily the dirt was loose, guess I wasn’t down here long. I felt dirt pile on my face, I spit and kept clawing my way to the air, I had to get there I had to live, I had to!  
“Please, please, please.” I muttered at every handful of dirt I pushed away.  
I felt air, on my fingertips and I pushed my hand through. I pushed myself up and out of the ground, and gulped in fresh air.   
I scrambled out of the ground and sat down next to the dirt I crawled from, it was a grave.  
“Wow, I guess I was dead for a while, felt like forever.” I frowned at the old rotted wood that marked the grave I crawled out of.  
I felt around my pockets. I pulled out a gold coin and the switchblade.  
“Um, what’s this from?” I asked, examining the coin.  
I put it back into my pocket and smiled at the blade that I had kept through my adventure. Why hadn’t I used this?  
I looked around the area, tree’s a clearing, slush on the ground, no wonder it was cold it was winter. It was a clearing, was this? No- they, they did. They buried me in the clearing I learned to fly in.  
I couldn’t have been dead more than a month. It was about fall when I died.  
Felt like a lifetime down there, though.  
“Okay, where do I go to get to the bunker, umm, that-a-way!” I exclaimed, trying to get my voice back too normal.   
I began to walk in a vaguely familiar direction.  
After around half an hour of walking I realized all my wounds were healed, and I didn’t feel much pain.   
“Wait, who pulled me out? why would anyone pull me out?” I pondered this as I approached a road.  
I walked along the road toward where I was half-sure the bunker was, please let me be lucky. Though if I wasn’t it meant more of this wondrous walking. It felt so good to stretch out in the real world.  
Fortunately, and Un, I was correct in my direction and saw the two cellar doors that connected the bunker to the outside world.  
I knocked on the doors, expectantly waiting for Dean or Sam to welcome me back from . . . down under.  
Instead I saw a kid, about three to four years older than me. black hair, tanned skin small brown eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept for days.   
Have I been replaced? I wondered, recoiling a little.  
“Who are you?” he asked, looking me up and down.  
“I’m Hope Carlyle. I’m a friend of Sam and Deans.” I said. “Who are you?”   
“I’m Kevin.” He said, putting his hand out for me to shake. I did so and realized his hand was soaked.   
“Dude? Why is your hand wet?” I asked, shaking my hand dry.  
“Not a demon.” Kevin said.  
“Demon, why would I be a demon?” I was confused, who was this Kevin, why hadn’t I heard about him, if it was winter I would have only been dead a month or so, how had they found him so quickly? And where was Dean and Sam and Castiel?  
I saw Dean in the doorway, he was rushing over to Kevin. He shoved the boy out of the way and roughly grabbed my arm, before pulling me in and shoving me against a wall.  
“Dean!” I gasped. “What the heck!?”   
“How dare you wear her face!” he hissed.  
He saw the knife had and tossed it away from me. my heart crashed down to my stomach, who did he think I was, some monster?   
“Dean, I’m not a monster!” I pleaded as he reached into his own pocket and pulled out a larger version of the knife I took from him.  
“She’s not a demon, Dean.” Kevin said, walking forward.  
I saw Sam appear up the stairs, he looked sickly like he had a bad case of the flu.  
Dean kept a steady glare on me as he slid the knifes blade down my arm, causing red blood to seep out.   
His glare melted into a look a sadness. “Hope?”   
“Dean? Why did you cut me?” I asked, pulling away from the now lax grip.  
“Whoa!” Kevin exclaimed.  
I felt my back and I was greeted with my trusty feathers. The holes.  
A memory flashed into my mind.  
I was standing there, I had ripped my shirt with my wings and killed an angel, then Dean was dead. And I did what I had to, I knew that. And I didn’t regret it if only for a second.  
I shuddered, it wasn’t a good memory.  
“Um, yeah. Heh. I’m sort of part angel.” I said, to Kevin.  
“I’d read about those. I thought they were extinct.” Kevin replied.  
“Now they’re endangered.” I sighed.  
I felt Dean wrap his arms around me and I was lifted into the air, this was a strange gesture for him.   
“Um, hi. Dean? I missed you too, believe me I missed all of you.” I assured him when he put me down.  
I saw Sam make it to the top of the stairs.  
“Hey, Sam!” I said, then frowning I added. “Are you sick or did you get hit by a bus, or?”   
“Heh, thanks for that.” Sam responded giving me a side hug.  
“So, why cut my arm? And the water? What’s up with that stuff?” I asked, looking up at the men around me.  
“We were making sure you were you, the water, holy water stops demons. And silver in case you were a shifter.” Sam explained.  
“Oh? Well okay, I guess.” I shrugged, there were so many creatures and tests I didn’t know about.  
“You have a soul, right?” Dean asked me quietly.  
“Y-yeah. Did that happen?” I asked, that was a weird question.  
“One day, I’ll tell you all about it.” He sighed.  
~~~Later~~~  
I had a drink of water and was reading a book of lore, when I heard some noises in the bunker.  
My knife that I took everywhere with me was on the table I grabbed it and began to investigate.  
I walked down a long corridor, following the strange noises, muttering, scratching and clangs like metal hitting metal.  
I knitted my eyebrows in confusion, slinking along the walls listening closely. I found myself in a supply room, but the noises were louder here. I pushed around some boxes of relics and cans of food. Until I found a door hidden behind a few shelves and boxes. The door had a strange painting on it, I assumed it was to ward off demons, as the boys knew Crowley. All I did know for sure was that Demons had black eyes, or red I guess.  
I pushed open the heavy door, the inside of it was laced in something rough.  
I entered the room, going down a short set of stairs. It was a dark gray color, no windows the only thing was a cart full of instruments of torture.  
“Why?” I murmured, this time I heard the chains slam to the floor as if someone was either free or dropped them.  
I gasped, turning to the center of the room I saw a man in a suit, slight balding on his head, a large chain around his neck.  
“C-Crowley?” I stammered, my breath quickening. The demon that sent me to Hell the king of it was chained up in the Winchesters basement. This was not real.  
“Hello, love. Back from your little time in my world?” he smiled at me.  
I took a shuddering breath. “Yeah, Crowley how’s the basement?”  
He looked annoyed and sighed.  
I took a few more breaths before looking at the table, I was hit with a wave of nausea at the knives and saws and needles, along with screw drivers and pliers. I left the room to escape the horrible tools of destruction.  
“Leaving so soon, stay a while!” I heard Crowley call after me, in his horrible British voice.  
I slammed the door and left the storage room to return to the library.  
~~~Night~~~  
Slice, rip, tear. The pains away, darkness. Slice, rip, tear. Question. Saw. Pull, strain, snip, the pains away, darkness.   
Repetition, then sudden change. Drowning, burning, drowning, drowning, drowning!   
I opened my eyes with a gasp. I was in my room in the bunker, on my bed, it was dark, maybe three AM. Not typical.  
“Okay, okay. I’m not there.” I assured myself. “Think, think of a happy memory, um. Castiel, Castiel. Remember when he was helping me to fly and I fell but he caught me. he always catches me.” I smiled, remembering the crisp air, and the horrible feeling of falling just before he caught me, wonder if he flew? I never saw his wings besides during a thunderstorm when he came to check on me and the light of my room illuminated him and I saw the shadow of great large wings behind him.  
Castiel and these crazy, unhealthily codependent brothers were my new family, I decided, they saved me and my adopted family. Though I’m not going to save the world, I’m not going to stop it, so I might as well help Sam and Dean.  
Even if I fall down again.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope doesn't know much, but she does know that she cares for her new family, even if they are a bit to full of testosterone.

I went to the bathroom and washed my hands and face, I turned to leave and go back to sleep, well try I had been trying since three AM. It was now four-fifteen. A hint of red caught my eye and I saw a tissue not subtly wadded up with red drops clinging to it, it was like many others in the small trashcan. I was worried, was Sam really that sick? Coughing up blood sick? What could weaken the strong wall of a man that Sam was so much?  
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and left the room swiftly.  
Between the bloody tissues, nightmares and confusion as to when it was, I didn’t sleep that night.  
Night after night, nightmare after nightmare. I was getting maybe an hour or two a night. The blood and fire filled memories were painful to have let alone relieve in my dreams. I wondered if the heroes of the world ever had nightmares. I wanted to be strong, and tough. I wanted to be like them, smart, resilient, powerful. I wanted to prove myself.   
I woke up from the fire and hatful laughing for the twelfth time in a row.  
I looked at the clock, six AM, alright, whatever.  
I left my room and heard bickering, typical.  
“Sam, these trials are killing you.” I heard Dean argue.  
“I need to do this we need to close the gates of Hell!” Sam protested.   
I hid and listened for a few moments, geez, they’re bickering like an old married couple.  
It was a few minutes until they departed off to their separate corners of the bunker. I scurried away when Sam came my way, and I randomly picked out a book from the shelf in the library.   
Demons, vultures of Earth. I read the title, wow, pessimistic much?  
“Hey, Hope.” Sam said.  
“Hi, Sam.” I replied, walking to the table where I began to fake read the scripts on how to capture demons and their weaknesses.  
It was a tense silence for a while until Sam began to cough into his shirt, he tried to hide it but I saw the red droplets staining the sleeve.  
“Sam, seems like you’re really getting sick. Like your body’s going under some pretty heavy trials.” I emphasized the last word and looked at the man.  
“Hope, what are you talking about?” Sam closed his book and looked at me, questioning.  
“What are the trials?” I asked bluntly.  
“Hope, how’d you know?” Sam asked.  
“I might have been dead yesterday but I have ears.” I responded, smartly.  
Sam sighed. “We’re closing the gates of Hell, happy?”   
“Heck, no! why?” I exclaimed.  
“So we trap all demons down there, including Crowley.” Sam pressed his thumb to his forehead, annoyed obviously.  
“What about getting people in?” I asked.  
“What?”  
“Getting people in, I wouldn’t condemn anyone I know down there, but c’mon not everyone deserves Heaven, even if it’s only a few people a year, it would not go well, not for anyone.” I said, crossing my arms.  
Sam seemed to just ignore my response.   
Alright, Samuel. I gave you my idea, now do with it what you will. I thought. A brief image of a trench coat came into my mind.  
“Hey, Sam?”   
“Yeah?” Sam asked, voice tight.  
“Never mind.” I replied, hunching over the book. I guess I’ll find out about Castiel later.  
I walked past the table with a map, the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room when I saw Kevin sitting over papers filled with writings and symbols and a pile of letters, Enochian and English alongside Latin and Greek.  
“Um, Kevin? Are you translating that?” I asked him, peering over, it was like hieroglyphics, mixed with gibberish.  
“Yes,” he replied curtly.  
“Okay . . .” I whispered, walking past. “Just remember to take care of yourself.”   
He looked up at me a dangerous determination in his eyes, before turning back to the tablet he had before him.   
I thought about what to do for a few moments, before deciding to find out the date. Hmm, my calendar was probably inaccurate, so Dean? The only one I haven’t ticked off.  
I wandered the house and searched for the eldest hunter, finding him going over a list on the balcony near the door to the outside.  
“Hey, Dean? Do you know what the date is?” I slid up beside him and asked the question quickly.  
“Yeah, it’s December 15, 20 . . . Hope? Do you really think that knowing the date will help?” He looked at me, something softer hidden behind his tough outer shell, like sympathy.  
“Yeah, I would like to know.” I assured him.  
“It’s December 15, 2013.” He said.  
I sucked in a breath, I was born in 1998, I had died in 2010.  
“I- I’ve been dead for three years?” I anticipated the answer.  
“Yes.”  
“But, my- my family?”   
“Haven’t had contact with them since.” He admitted.  
“So you’ve been avoiding my parents!? Letting them think you kidnapped me, tortured me?! for three years no less!” I yelled, this made me mad, not knowing myself was okay, ignorance is bliss and all that, but at least a check in with my family would be nice.  
“Not even a hello?” I asked a bit more quietly.   
“No, Hope. We didn’t want them to know, it would be bad for all of us.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “And besides, I know how time works down there.”  
I don’t know if it was because I was tired or hurt.  
But something in me broke.  
“No, you don’t! you’re a good person! Always looking out for your brother! I could hardly even defend myself! I -I. You don’t know!” I exclaimed, harshly. “You love your brother, I, I never could.” I ended my rant softly. “It was hard, they were great, but just friends that’s what they were to me, my parents were there. Mom and Dad, but it was like even they knew I wasn’t good at the life they had, and I didn’t want it. I – I was restless and, it got them hurt. I deserved Hell, you don’t.” I finished. “You don’t know what I did. Here and down. I wanted to help people, but all I do is get them hurt.”  
“Hope, I’ve done horrible things, you’re not alone.” Dean let the sympathy ride freely in his eyes. “No one is proud of everything they did. Doesn’t mean that you get the pit.”   
I looked away. I didn’t want to have him angry too, I guess I needed to work on my social skills.  
“Hope, how long was it? For you?” He rested his hand on my shoulder gently.  
“thirty-six.” I mumbled.  
“Years?”  
“Hundred.” I corrected, “Thirty-six hundred years, down there.”   
He looked sad for me, not horrified or angry, just sad. It almost physically hurt to see him that way.  
“Dean?” I said.  
“Hope?” he responded.  
“How long, were you?”   
“Forty years, kiddo. You’ve lasted a long time.” He smirked at me helplessly.  
“Thanks.” I smiled at him. The memories hurt but, if Dean got through it, then so could I.  
I guess.  
~~~Night~~~  
I was asleep again, no dreams just darkness when I felt something in me being lifted up, no I was. In a flash of blinding light. I found myself in what I presumed to be a dream.  
“Okay. What the heck, dream is this?” I muttered to myself.  
I was in a warehouse, it was decorated with a gray roof, and it was slightly cold, I saw a vent on the ceiling blowing the cold air in. the floor was rough, and there was a chair behind me and a chair in front of me.  
“No, no, no, no. no.” I repeated. Shaking my head, backing away from it, I hit something hard and pulled away with a sickeningly wet noise. I turned to see my tormenter standing there, a pile of intestines in one hand and a bloodied butchers knife in the other.   
“No!” I screamed, falling backwards the floor had transformed into icy cold water, I was submerged suddenly, and too late I had taken in a lungful of water and saw a white light, blinding me. I heard a flash and I sat bolt upright in my bed, drenched in sweat and gasping, I coughed and tasted salt.  
“What’s wrong with me?” I muttered, sitting up for the rest of the night, once again.  
I heard a commotion around the table I first saw Kevin translating the text. I peered around a corner and saw Dean smiling at Kevin.   
I saw the paper Sam was holding.  
The Second Trial:  
Free an innocent soul from Hell.   
“Wow,” I sighed. They really are going to close the gates of Hell.

I couldn’t believe it, Kevin had left the bunker to go to Garth’s houseboat, I think. And Sam and Dean went to go and free the soul from Hell, I had the place to myself, well, Crowley was in the basement but I was avoiding him.   
I thought, what do I do? Act useful? I mean, all I had done was research monsters and demons, maybe there was some lore on angels. Maybe I could find a hunt! No . . . Sam was way too sick to hunt. Maybe I could clean the place, no it had a room cleaned every other day and it wasn’t a cleaning day, so that was for tomorrow. I wasn’t allowed to poke around the relics, though I liked to read the case reports that went along with them.   
I mulled over what to do when I remembered Castiel, I hadn’t seen him for a while. I remembered when they had first helped me, when I was learning Enochian with him we had gotten to the twenty-seventh symbol when I was kidnapped, that happened a lot. He was mad and torn from what I saw, he wanted to protect me, but I wouldn’t let him. I was too proud.   
I liked hunting, well this life. The adventure, sure Hell and the pain stunk, but the learning and the fighting it was exhilarating it made me feel alive.   
Until I had the feeling of being watched, I whirled around to see myself somewhere different. A white room with a lava-lamp style design on the left wall. There was a white desk with a woman in a gray pantsuit sitting at it. I turned to see a man with a dress shirt and a trench coat.  
“Castiel?”  
“Where am I? Who are you!?” I demanded, glaring harshly at the woman in the gray pantsuit.  
“Watch your tone with me. I am Naomi, you are in Heaven.” The woman said.  
I was taken aback.  
“I- I,” I stammered, searching for something to defend myself with.  
“Oh, I’m not here to hurt you, just to warm you. Leave the Winchester’s and the angels. I don’t care where you go, just go.” She hissed.  
"Why?"   
"Because your are more trouble and a complication to the plans laid out for them and we. don't. need. you, ruining it." she replied, coolly.  
“What about, Castiel?” I asked, stepping back.  
“He’ll be fine.” She responded.  
“Then why isn’t he moving?!” I exclaimed.  
“Because I’ve frozen us in time, for him not a second has passed. In fact, he hasn’t even finished his thought yet. And only I will remember this meeting.” Naomi smiled at me.  
“But, I won’t leave them, they’re my friends.” I said.  
“I’ll give you one chance," she sighed. "You’ll remember this warning but not Castiel, now back home.” She waved her hand and I was back in the living room.

I stood breathing heavily.

My head was throbbing.


	3. Hearing Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope is back in the bunker, but something is strange. if only she could remember what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is shorter but I am planning a longer one next.

Leave the Winchesters and their angel. A voice in my head ordered.  
I shook it away, why would I leave them? They’re my friends. But the voice persisted until I almost preferred the nightmares to it.  
I didn’t want to leave though, I wanted to help them.  
But this voice, it was getting very old. I decided to go out into the clearing.  
I opened the door and left the bunker.   
I walked for longer than I thought I would have done, but it was nice, cool air on my face but my torso and legs were warm from y sweatshirt and jeans.  
I felt around in my pockets, the silver switchblade and the coin. It always popped up in my line of sight whenever I was leaving, so I just carried it around now, good luck I figured.  
I examined the coin more thoroughly, gold, a picture of a wolf surrounded my strange symbols on the other side was a scorpion surrounded by a different set of symbols, I couldn’t place them though. Heck, it wasn’t even Enochian.  
“So, Castiel? You still out there?” I called out to no one in particular.  
No response. “Thanks, Castiel.” I muttered. “You didn’t even finish teaching me Enochian.”  
I turned hopeful. No one but the wind in the trees. “Oh well, guess he’s busy. Maybe he’s helping out Sam and Dean.”  
I walked back to the bunker.   
I reached the door and gripped the handle, I was startled when I heard a soft buzzing, slowly rising in pitch and volume.  
“Ow.” I muttered, taking my hand off the handle. The buzzing turned to ringing and began to hurt my head. I backed away from it, the pain intensifying every second.   
I groaned, walking even further from the door. The volume and pitch rising even higher than before. I grunted falling to the ground, I felt something warm and wet on my hands covering my ears, all my muscles were seizing, I prayed for unconsciousness to take hold and for once, my prayers were answered.  
I woke up hours later, it was dawn, and I was laying down, half of my body was in a creek that ran through a ditch next to the Bunkers road.   
“Ugh,” I groaned, rubbing my left ear. I pulled away and saw dried blood.   
“Ow.” I murmured, standing up, I was hesitant to go to the bunker after last night’s fiasco.  
I walked over to the bunker, this time opening the door without any problems. I entered and took a shower, I changed dried off and came out to see Sam and Dean sitting at the table. Sam looked much, much worse than before.   
“Where were you guys?” I asked.  
“Nowhere.” Dean replied.  
I was disappointed that Dean would lie, but I guess he didn’t want me to get wrapped up in this.  
“Okay, well I’m off to the library if you need me.” I said, casting a worried glance at Sam.  
“See ya.” Dean said.  
I let out a deep sigh, walking into the library.  
Any way to help? Um, let’s see they’re doing the trials so I can’t help with that it seems, maybe I can help them with finding Castiel. I’m sure he would have shown up at this point if he was okay. Okay, what would I be looking for then? Um, hmm. I guess this?   
I picked out a book labeled; Magic and Cures.  
Maybe I could help Sam get better. I was reading the book and at page 45 when I heard the buzzing again. I began to breath quickly, and forced it to stay steady as the noise persisted. With every turn of a page my breathing amped up, as did the buzzing until it was steady ringing slowly rising in pitch. It wasn’t until I couldn’t hear anything.   
I stumbled out of the room, to the table where they were sat quietly speaking to each other.  
“Dean!” I called out, falling against the frame that separated the rooms.   
He mouthed what I assumed was my name.  
“Dean!” I groaned as it increased in pitch. “Gah!” I exclaimed falling to the ground, on my hands and knees I raised a shaky hand to touch my ear. I pulled away and my fingers were slick with blood.   
It all happened in slow motion.  
I turned and saw Dean running to me Sam more slowly. I saw him begin to slide towards me. Yelling something.  
A memory burst into my mind, Naomi.  
“Angels.” I yelled, turning my head away as it grew worse.   
As Dean became within an inch to me, I heard nothing and then I wasn’t in the bunker. 

~~~Supernatural~~~  
“Look, Sam you’re sick, and it’s getting worse!” I argued.  
Sam like usual was being stubborn, he was getting worse these trials were messing with him on an atomic level, Castiel before he disappeared had said so, even that he can’t heal him.  
“Dean!” I heard a yell from the doorway.  
“Hope?” I said, she was leaning against the archway into the library, a pained expression on her face.   
“Dean!” she cried out, falling down on the ground. She was sitting on her knees, leaning forward so that her head almost touched the floor. She touched her ear and I saw red dripping to the floor and on her fingers. Her ears were bleeding.  
“Hope! What’s happening to you?!” I yelled, running over to her, it was like she couldn’t hear me, not looking up until I touched her.  
She groaned as more blood dripped to floor.  
Sam was now at my side. Leaning down to try to help our friend in pain.  
Her eyes flashed with the gray light before she yelled out “ANGELS!” and disappeared.  
“Angels?” Sam repeated.  
“Damnit!” I exclaimed, now the traumatized twelve-year-old was gone, Sam was practically dying, and Cass was AWOL. Perfect just perfect.  
“Dean?” Sam said breaking into my thoughts.  
“Yeah, Sam?” I asked, exasperated.   
“How are we going to get her back?”   
“Look, we’ll figure it out, Sam. The girls smart, she’ll be okay for a few hours.” I assured him. “We have too.”  
~~~Supernatural~~~  
the ringing. The dang ringing. It must have knocked me out.  
I opened my eyes to see myself in a white room. A lava lamp style wall to my left, a white desk and three angels surrounding me.  
“Naomi.” The name came to me suddenly and sharply.  
“Hope, welcome back.” Came a harsh reply.  
I sat up and saw a woman standing in front of me.  
“Back?” I parroted.  
“Oh yes, you’ve been here once before. And you didn’t listen! Kids! I should have known.” She growled, looking down at me. “Kids, don’t listen and shouldn’t have your power.” She hissed.  
“What!? I can control them though! I’m not a threat!” I argued.  
“Oh, you are not, but Sam and Dean are, so while you’re here, and they’re down there trying ot find you they’re weak, and we can get the angel tablet!” Naomi announced.  
The solemn angels on my other sides let out a uniform cheer.   
“Angel tablet?” I asked.  
“Yes, angel tablet.” She mocked.  
I stared at her, shocked, I didn’t know that there was an angel tablet, then was that what Kevin was translating? They how did it close the gates of Hell?  
“Off you go. Where you won’t be trouble.” She said darkly.  
“Wait, where?!” I asked, being dragged away by the angels out of the room and down long corridors.  
I was struggling at best I could but I was weaker than the angels.  
I watched as paintings of other resident angels passed,   
Uriel,  
Ezekiel,  
Raphael,  
Balthazar,  
Gabriel,  
Castiel?  
I sneered at the final painting.  
Naomi.  
I felt the rug that was underneath me turn to hardwood, then stone.  
I heard angry cries in the hall I was pulled down. Sneers and screams. It was like Hell. I began to fight harder than I had before. Panic making my moves more violent and rushed. I heard an angel cry out in anger when I slipped from his grasp. Using my free hand, I pulled away from the other angel and slid under the third, I heard cheers from behind me as I ran from the room. A few called out a “Take me with you!” but one angel caught my eye, he looked more angry than the others less remorseful, like he was wrongfully accused, maybe it was something in his eyes.  
It made me uneasy.  
Maybe because it was same look I saw in the mirror.  
I ran from the room. I was trying to hide from angels in Heaven. This was stupid and reckless.  
Besides the original hallway leading to the dungeon, all of the walls were a bright white color, and the floors a darker gray.  
I ran, hearing other footsteps catching up with me. I turned a corner and saw doors going down in rows. I ran down the hallway and choose a door labeled, 700,753,234.   
Opening the door and quickly and quietly closing it, I put it to my back looking around the room.  
It was a cozy little library, with a radio playing rock quietly, it had a recliner, and cooler. A fireplace was lit in the corner giving off a comfortable heat.  
I heard a gun cock.  
“Who the hell are you?” asked a masculine voice.  
I looked around to see a middle aged man with red hair, a t-shirt joined with a vest, jeans boots and a cap. Aiming a gun at my head.  
I put my hands up.  
“I’m Hope Carlyle, who are you?” I asked.  
“I’m Bobby Singer. Why are you in my Heaven?”


	4. Fallen Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope finds herself in Bobby Singers Heaven, where time is slower and everything is accessible, well almost everything.

“Okay, Bobby Singer. I just need to get back to Earth.” I said, slowly making my way from the door.  
“Why are you in my Heaven!?” he demanded, loudly.  
“Sh. Keep your voice down, please.” I looked at him imploringly. “Look, sir. I just need to get back to Earth and find Sam and Dean. I need to get back to them.”  
He lowered the gun a little. “How do you know those idjits?”  
“Idjits? They saved my life, and my family’s. I’ve been staying at the bunker with them.” I answered. “I just got back.”  
“Back from where?” Bobby asked.  
“Hell.” I said.  
“Are you a demon? I’m sick of those.” He questioned.  
“No, no. quite the opposite actually. I’m a Nephilim. An angel-human hybrid kind of.”  
“Then what are you doing in here?” he lowered the gun totally. “Shouldn’t you be out doing kid angel stuff?”  
“I- people like me are unclean, abominations.” I sighed, sadly. “Makes for a tough childhood, especially when you’re associated with the Winchesters apparently. Dean said he would tell me about it all one day but so far nothing, I-. uh, never mind. So you have anything where I can communicate with Earth?” I asked. “Any spells, or rituals?”  
“No, but it’s probably somewhere in there.” He answered.  
“Thank you.” I said, this man who apparently knew Sam and Dean was kind, and had an air about him that made him just feel trustworthy.  
“So what have those boys been up to?” Bobby asked.  
“I don’t really know, Castiel’s missing, Kevin’s off somewhere deciphering a tablet. Sam’s looking bad and Dean’s frustrated and the gates close to closing, I just don’t know what they’re going to do.” I ranted.  
“What do you know about them?” I asked, Bobby.  
“Everything, I’m practically their dad.” Bobby said proudly. “I remember Sam freeing me from Hell, and all the times before that.” Bobby smiled at his memories.  
“Sam freed you from Hell?” I asked.  
“Yeah.” Bobby replied.  
“Free an innocent soul from Hell.” I gasped. “You were the second trial!” I gasped.  
“Lord, they tell a kid about that?” He chuckled.  
“Nah, I’m just nosy like that.” I joked.  
“Right.”  
“Is it possible for me to contact them, from here anyway? Like a spell or something?” I pondered quietly.  
“How does time work up here?” I asked.  
“An hour up here up here is about the same as a week down there.” Bobby answered.  
“I’ve been up here for two hours though! You’re saying it’s been two weeks?” I asked, standing up.  
“Yep,” Bobby said, before he narrowed his eyes and read a page in his book intently. “I think I’ve got somethin’”  
“Really?” I asked, my eyes brimming with hope.  
“Yeah, it says that we’ll need Murdock root, yarrow, thyme. Blood. Of course, and hmm, piece of a garden.” Bobby read aloud.  
“Piece of a garden?” I repeated.  
“Hah! Of course, we’re in Heaven, must mean Garden of Eden.” Bobby exclaimed.  
“Oh, you’re right!” I looked at the man happily.  
“I’m always right.” He replied.  
“Naturally.” I smiled widely.  
This Bobby Singer was a nice man.  
“How’re you gonna get a piece of the garden?” he asked.  
“Um, steal it?” I shrugged my shoulders.  
“Sneaking around in Heaven, hunted by angels looking for the garden of Eden. Boy, those kids must’ve rubbed off on you.” He sighed.  
“I guess I’m a natural idiot.” I responded.  
“Yeah, yeah. It’s my Heaven aint it? I’m sure I got supplies in here, somewhere.” Bobby looked around his room.  
“Thank you so much, Bobby Singer. I can never repay you.” I said, earnestly.  
“Just after you get down there, make sure the boys don’t visit me too soon, okay?”  
“You got it, sir.”  
“Go bring me back a stick or something.” Bobby ordered, serious again.  
I nodded, before slowly opening the door, and peeking out, seeing no angels I left the room.  
I quietly made my way down the hall, turning a corner. How did angels find anything? It was all white with soft gray’s.  
Okay, Bobby’s hall had white walls roof and a gray floor, I can remember that.  
Slowly maneuvering myself down the unfamiliar hallway I saw three separate ways to go each branching off in a different direction.  
“So, door one, where there is a slim possibility of survival, door two even slimmer or three where you will die, oh wait, what’s that? You don’t know the order of the doors? Too bad!” I monologued quietly to myself.  
I decided to keep on heading straight. This hall had a checkered floor and ceiling, the walls a deep gray in contrast.  
At the end of the hallway was a small door, I opened it and saw a conference room, another door parallel to me the knob started to turn.  
Nope.  
I shut the door and walked swiftly down the hallway. Leaving and turning left this time, all the walls were the same disorientating gray. Bright at one moment then dimming only for it lighten again was causing my balance to become unstable.  
I heard voices this time, nearing me, coming from behind, I just relied on instinct and began to run down the hall.  
Please, please, please, don’t let them notice me, I’m begging you here, God. Grandfather? I don’t know. I just need to get out of here! I prayed silently.  
Nothing, no voice or sign.  
I was on my own, typical.  
I looked for an escape, running my hand along the wall I felt a slight bump, tugging at it I saw the shadows of the angel’s vessels approaching, I tried again and it budged if only slightly, I pull harder and I entered the room, closing the door, hearing it slam was not a good sign.  
The room I was in was dark and humid.  
I slowly walked forward. Seeing light poking out through a hole, like a sewer grate or manhole cover. I slipped off my hoodie and stretched my wings, fluttering closer to the light, I saw a small hole and I touched the lid keeping me from the warmth of the light.  
I pushed and shoved, for what felt like hours.  
Who knows it might have been.  
I hope they were okay, not doing something stupid.  
I hope Castiel was okay.  
I wished I knew.  
I stared at the stubborn cover, glaring more than staring though. I shoved again. A groaning noise rang through the tunnel.  
I pushed again, now the noise was creaking as light began to slip through small cracks in the cover. I pushed again, now an inch of light was seeping through.  
“Please, let this be the place.” I pleaded to no one in particular.  
And it was.  
The air was crisp with a hint of a fall breeze, the trees were changing color ever so slightly, and the grass was crunching with my footsteps but keeping a ripe green. The sun was always just out of your eyes so you wouldn’t have to squint. The clouds parted just so, and it wasn’t too hot, but just teetering on the edge of needling a sweater. It was perfect.  
Until I heard someone speak.  
“Welcome, to the Garden.”  
“Who, who are you?” I stammered.  
“I am, the gardener.” He said. Fiddling with a tree branch.  
“Look, I just- I just want to go back home.” I pleaded with him. “I’m not going to pose a threat, I promise.”  
“I trust you.” He assured me.  
“What? Really? Wow, that was easy.” I mused.  
“I have no reason not to trust you, I know who you are, what you are.” He said, a tense voice when he said “What”.  
“So, can I have a piece of the garden?” I asked.  
He nodded, giving me a slight smile.  
“Thank you.” I said, dipping my head, I reached for a branch and gripped it when the earth shook.  
“Um? Gardener?” I looked up at the man, to only see panic and fear in his eyes. “What’s happening?”  
“I don’t know.” He admitted softly.  
I felt my heart drop as the ground beneath me shook vigorously before the cracks split, Heaven was breaking, and below me I saw it first one then two then ten, angels, falling to the Earth. I saw the Gardener slip while backing away, falling down like a meteor.  
My breath quickened before I too was plummeting down to the Earth, the atmosphere at first so cold became hotter and hotter, searing pain, as I heard hundreds of agonized cries from all around me, I joined their pleas for it to end, why were we all falling to Earth? Why were the angels falling?  
I felt tendons ripping on my back muscles pulling and skin tearing, it was horrible pain.  
It was like Hell.  
I prayed for Castiel to help me, I begged for unconsciousness to take hold it only got worse. The Earth was nearing and my wings were hanging on my slivers of tendons. It hurt worse than anything I’ve felt before. Fire on my face, wind like knives beating down on my body. I let out a cry of pain as my wings detached from my body flying backwards off somewhere. 

I could see the trees outlining where I would land, I was expecting to die now, I was expecting to hit the ground and die. 

My only hope was that Castiel would catch me.

Castiel always caught me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope will be back for more in the third part of the series. :)


End file.
